Girl, Interrupted
by jacklavigne
Summary: She wasn't crazy, she didn't belong here, that's what she kept telling herself. This was just a rough patch, she just needed a rest; she wasn't crazy, she wasn't, so why did everyone keep looking at her like she was?
1. Chapter 1

_AN: Yes, yes, I do realize that I have three other stories that I'm writing right now, all of which are in need of an update, but I've had this story rolling around my head for months, so I decided to finally put it down in writing. If you haven't been able to guess by the title, or you haven't read the book or seen the movie, this story is based on the movie/book Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen. It's a true story of Susanna's time that she spent in a mental institution, and it's one of my favourite books and movies. If you haven't seen it, I suggest that you watch it, because it is amazing. _

_If you have seen the movie or read the book, you will find some similiarities in this story, though obviously the characters are different, etc. I've chosen to put some of the parts of the movie into this story, though they won't be exactly the same, you will recognise them when they're written and obviously, those ideas don't belong to me, they belong wholly to Susanna Kaysen. Mostly, this story will be different, as will the characters, who will not be like they are on the show, Orange is the New Black, for obvious reasons, as they are in a mental hospital. _

_This story is rated M for sexual scenes, violence, bad language and some very dark themes. There will be mentions and descriptions of self harm, along with a variety of mental illnesses, so if that's not your thing, or you can't stomach it, I suggest you don't read this story. I do not own the characters or the idea for this story, the characters belong to Piper Kerman and Jenji Kohan, and the basic idea for this story belongs to Susanna Kaysen. _

_This story, just like the others that I'm writing, is a long term story and since I've got so many other things that I'm writing also, will not be updated very regularly. I will not keep you waiting for weeks on end, but this is a warning that it will not be updated every few days either, so I'm apologizing in advance. _

_Now, enough of this super long AN, and on with the story. Let me know what you think, and I hope you enjoy it!_

**Girl, Interrupted**

"_**Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the cash? Have you ever been blue? Or thought your train moving while sitting still? Maybe I was just crazy. Maybe it was the 60's. Or maybe I was just a girl... interrupted." - Girl, Interrupted, Susanna Kaysen. **_

_Red, it's all she saw; red splashes across the pavement, across her hands and face, red vision. It was a red hot fury that bubbled up in her chest, threatening to erupt from her throat in a roar as her fists kept making impact. Broken teeth cut into her knuckles, mixing her blood with the blood of her unfortunate victim; it was all a case of wrong time, wrong place, and wrong words. _

_"You ain't worthy of God's love, you ain't worthy of nobody's love!"_

_"No! No! No!" The word was repeated with every rapid swing, as she continued to pummel the almost unrecognizable face beneath her. Long blonde hair had darkened, soaked with blood, and the perfect, mocking smile was now shattered and broken and those blue eyes had disappeared long ago, swollen shut as they were. It was beyond satisfying to see that perfect, pale face turned into something so ugly; a reflection of what was inside, and she grinned ferally at the drastic transformation, it was fucking beautiful. _

_Hands closed around her biceps, pulling her away from the limp body of her enemy, but she hardly even noticed, she just kept swinging like a crazed woman. Attack, destroy, end it! Her mind kept screaming as she reached towards the woman with outstretched hands, an animalistic growl escaping from her throat. The blonde deserved what she got, deserved the pain inflicted on her; deserved to die. The hands gripped her tighter, digging into her flesh, and a voice shouted in her ear. "Piper! Piper, stop! Calm the fuck down! Oh, fuck, what have you done?"_

_Beginning to come out of her rage filled haze, blue eyes blink in shock as rough hands shake her into awareness. Her eyes take in the scene and she's horrified by the sight of the broken and bloody body on the floor, because something's not right. The hair that was once blonde is now a dark brown, and while the face of the woman is bruised and swollen, she knows it isn't the same woman she thought it was. Her very worst enemy, the blonde with the mocking laugh and taunting words had formed back into the young preacher, who was now limp and lifeless on the sidewalk, a drastic change from the feisty woman she'd met only minutes ago._

_Her hands shake and she's hyperventilating, gasping for breath and red and blue lights are flashing in the distance, but they fade away into darkness as the ground rises up to meet her in a painful and welcome embrace._

"Miss Chapman? Miss Chapman? _Piper._"

The sound of my name snaps me from the memory that is flashing behind my eyes, and I have no idea how long I have been sitting here, staring off into space. The sidewalk outside the church fades away, to be replaced with a cozy sitting room, complete with overstuffed arm chairs and a roaring fire. The man sitting in the arm chair across from me stares at me with wary, worried brown eyes, and I force myself to make an effort to seem more conscious of my surroundings, even though my mind is far away. "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

The man sighs, running a hand through his short greying hair, and it's a sigh of hopelessness mixed with disappointment. "Miss Chapman, you have no idea how lucky you are, do you? Your boyfriend's father has managed to make quite the deal for you."

I sit a little straighter in my seat at this unexpected news, since this was the first I had heard about any _deal. _The last I heard from my lawyer was that they were playing the attack off as self-defense, which wasn't far from the truth, though my defense had been...excessive, to say at the least. It had started with some cruel words and then push came to shove, and the next thing I know, Tiffany Doggett, a well-known church goer in this part of town, was lying unconscious beneath me, her face a bloody mess.

Self-defense was a severe overstatement, but it was all that I had going for me.

"I'm sorry," I repeated slowly, my eyes focused on the man whose name I couldn't remember. A friend of Larry's father, a physiatrist, one of the best in his field, who had written several books about the criminal mind, which was fucking perfect, since that's what I was. "A deal?"

The psychiatrist stared at me intensely for several moments, as he twisted a pen between his tanned fingers, before looking down at the notepad on his lap. "Piper, you beat some random girl half to death; a fractured cheek bone, cranial swelling, broken nose, broken jaw. Now, your story of the events was confusing at best, since you seem to have blocked out the memory of that night, which is common in traumatic experiences, but you do have a history of having quite the temper, not to mention some recent episodes where you displayed signs of severe depression. You are facing quite a bit of time for aggravated assault, but with this evidence of your recent mental state, your lawyer was able to make a deal with the judge."

As the man continued with his little speech, his voice became more and more wary, as I became more and more confused. I couldn't deny the facts, since my temper was well known, though I had never done something like this before that fateful night. As for the depression, I sighed quietly to myself, that had been a demon I'd been facing for what felt like a lifetime, but I didn't think it had anything to do with my attack on that fucking preacher.

"My mental state?" I finally asked, my brows furrowed in confusion. "You make it sound like I'm crazy or something."

If possible, the shrink becomes more wary, as he looks up from his notepad, but still refuses to meet my gaze. "Piper, what you experienced that night was a mental break, which could have been caused by your obvious depression or the severe stress in your life. Your mother says that you've been fighting with your boyfriend a lot recently?"

"A mental break?" I scoffed in response, feeling my temper slowly begin to simmer beneath the surface. _Are you fucking kidding me with this shit? _"Look, sir, I lost my temper, okay? That girl, that fucking preacher, she said some things and I just lost it, that's all. It happens, right?"

"Your mother also said that you've disappeared into yourself as of late, focusing on your book? Are you having trouble writing? Has it been causing you stress?" The man persisted, and I felt as if I was going to snap, which wasn't uncommon for me lately. Maybe I really did belong in prison.

"What does my writing or my fights with my boyfriend have to do with anything?" I managed to get out between clenched teeth. "Everyone gets stressed, it doesn't mean they're fucking insane, doc."

"But not everyone pummels a girl beyond recognition when they're stressed, Miss Chapman." The man sighs as he drops his notebook onto the table beside him, before finally looking up to meet my eyes. "Look, Piper, you seem like a nice lady, and you have a choice here. Either you can spend the next five to ten years in maximum security for aggravated assault, or you can come to terms with your problems and take the deal that your lawyer has worked hard to make for you."

"You still haven't told me what this deal entails," I responded evenly, as my jaw began to throb from clenching my teeth so tightly.

"There is a place, just on the other side of town, where there are people that can help you deal with your problems. It is not a bad place, a lot of people go there when they're having a hard time, and what you're having right now is just a hard time, Piper. You need some help, you need a _rest_, and this is the perfect place for you to be right now. It's obvious that these feelings that you have been hiding inside are beginning to bubble up and manifest into physical acts and it's dangerous, for you and for the people around you. You've already caused some serious damage to a complete stranger, and let's not forget your little trip to the emergency room a few months ago."

It took a moment for realization to sink in and I felt the blood drain from my face as I stared at the psychiatrist's handsome face in horror. "Oh God, please don't tell me that you mean Litchfield."

"Your family and friends are worried about you, Piper," the man was almost pleading now, his brown eyes boring into mine. "Litchfield is a nice place; it'll be good for you. Like I said, you have a choice, you can continue with your trial, which you _will _lose, and be sent to maximum security for the next ten years, or you can take the bag that your mother has packed for you and get in the cab that's waiting outside. It's up to you, Piper."

He wasn't leaving me with much choice, and he was right, I knew that he was right. If I continued with my trial, I would lose, no matter how good of a lawyer Larry's father was, and I didn't want to go to prison. I would be eaten alive in prison; there was no doubt about it. But Litchfield? The thought of going there was _insane; _I wasn't fucking crazy or mentally unstable.

The sound of bones cracking beneath my relentless fists sent a shiver down my spine, and a flash of red hot anger rolled through me at the memory and I sighed. _Fuck._

"Okay. Okay," I finally relented, feeling hot tears well in my eyes as the psychiatrist gazed at me with obvious relief. "I'll go, but can I make a call first? I really need to speak to Larry."

"I think it's for the best that you don't speak to Larry right now," the man said firmly, though his brown eyes were sympathetic. "Maybe when you get to Litchfield, they'll let you call him."

I wanted to protest, but I nodded instead as I slowly stood up from my seat and let the doctor lead me to the front door, where a black duffle bag was waiting. The man picked it up and led me outside, where a yellow cab was parked in front of the house, door open and waiting for me. The therapist threw the bag into the back seat and leant in to speak to the driver briefly before turning to face me with an encouraging smile.

"This will be good for you, Piper." He repeated earnestly, though I found it hard to believe his words. "You'll be out before you know it, and then you can return to your life."

I simply nodded in response, slipping into the back seat of the cab and flinching as the door closed behind me with a sense of finality. I didn't look at the driver as I put on my seat belt, choosing to stare out the window instead as the car rumbled to life and we began our journey to the other side of town. The city passed by in a blur, the colors dull to my eyes and the pictures blurred with the tears that had slowly begun to leak from my eyes. I wiped them away with angry swipes of my hands and looked up past the driver's seat just in time to see a sign come into my line of vision.

The sign was situated outside of a massive three story building, which was split off into three parts and painted in a dreary, depressing grey, and it read, _Litchfield Psychiatric Hospital_ in big, bold letters.

_Welcome to your new home, Piper. _I thought to myself miserably as we drove through the open gates of the mental institution. _You really fucked up, this time._


	2. Chapter 2

**Girl, Interrupted**

The tiny rocks that made up the driveway screeched beneath the wheels of the cab, and the journey from the gate to the building was much too short for my liking. I could feel my chest tightening with anxiety as I noticed a woman waiting outside the entrance, dressed in a plain white nurse uniform with her bright red hair fluttering in the wind as she flicked the end of a cigarette away. She crossed her arms over her chest as the cab pulled to a stop and I was frozen in my seat as I turned my head to face the driver, who stared back at me strangely in the rear view mirror.

"Your fee's already been paid," the man finally said after a few minutes of silence, his own way of politely telling me to get the fuck out of his cab. I nodded my head and picked up my bag with shaky hands, pushing open the car door and stepping out into the brisk winter air. I had always loved winter, a reminder that Christmas and a new year was waiting for me just around the corner, but as I turned to face the short, red headed woman, I had a feeling that I wouldn't enjoy this season as much as I usually did.

She offered me a smile, which was surprisingly kind given her stern, no nonsense face and when she spoke, I was surprised by her thick Russian accent. "You must be Piper."

"Yes, Ma'am," I answered politely, fiddling with the bag strap that was slung over my shoulder.

"Don't call me ma'am, it makes me feel old. My name is Nurse Reznikov, but the girls call me Red," the older woman gave me another smile before turning on her heel and gesturing for me to follow her. "Come with me, we have some papers for you to fill out, and then we'll get you settled in."

It took a moment before I could finally force my feet to move, terrified as I was to enter the dreary grey building, and Red gave me an encouraging smile as she opened the door for me to pass by her. I tried to smile back, but it came out more like a grimace as we walked along the linoleum floors of the hospital, with my wide blue eyes eyes taking in every horrible detail. I had never liked hospitals, they always felt much too sterile and impersonal for me to ever feel comfortable in them, with the smell of disinfectant lingering in the air, and I had a feeling I would be no less uncomfortable in a mental institution. Nurse Reznikov led me through several winding hallways, all with the same white walls and polished black and white linoleum floors, before stopping outside of an office and knocking lightly on the door. We were called in a few seconds later, and I was greeted by a bored looking man, with short spindly hairs on top of his head and a bushy mustache, sitting behind a desk, whose name badge read 'Joe Caputo'.

"You must be the new girl," the man said as he let his dull brown eyes drift up and down my body before he started looking through the papers that were scattered across his desk. "Take a seat; this will just take a moment."

I sat down hesitantly in the seat across from him, glancing over my shoulder to find the nurse still waiting by the door, her piercing blue eyes staring at me with a pondering look. My attention was diverted back to the man behind the desk when he slid a pile of forms towards me, with a pen resting on top.

"What's all this?" I asked as I glanced between the papers and the man across from me.

"Just some legal documents, they basically say that you weren't admitted here against your will," the man continued to ramble on about the contents of the documents as I skimmed through the papers, my eyes catching a sentence on the second to last page.

_'...uncontrollable anger, self-loathing, depression-has attempted suicide...'_

"Wait," I cut the man off mid-sentence as I looked up from the page. "This is all wrong; I didn't try to kill myself."

"That's something you should save for your therapy sessions, Miss Chapman. If you would please, sign your name at the bottom..." the rest of his words went unheard as I signed my name at the bottom of the last page, while my mind drifted back towards the past.

_"Hey honey, I'm home!" A familiar voice called, but it sounded far away, as if she was hearing it from underwater, which of course, she was. "Piper? Where are you? I've got some Chinese that I picked up from-"_

_Her heart feels sluggish in her chest, as if it's struggling to pump the blood through her veins with the amount of valium that is coursing through her. She feels unnaturally calm, peaceful, even though her lungs are contracting painfully in her chest, screaming for air that has been denied to them. Black spots are forming in her blurry vision, threatening unconsciousness which she welcomes with open arms, and she wonders if the blurry vision is a side effect from the bottle of vodka that she drowned herself in or the water that she's currently drowning herself in. _

_But she's not drowning herself, is she; she's just escaping the pain of her existence, if only for a little while. She hadn't meant to slip beneath the edge of the water, hadn't meant to submerge herself completely, but she didn't have the will to pull herself up. Her blinding headache had finally lost the battle against the bottle of aspirin that she took, mixed with a decent handful of valium which had been chased by a bottle of vodka, and her body felt blissfully numb, so numb in fact that her muscles were refusing to operate, so even if she did want to pull herself from the water, she couldn't._

_And honestly, she couldn't fucking care less. Good riddance, she thinks._

_But the annoying voice of her boyfriend is persistent, and just as she feels her lungs begin to give up, they are inflated almost painfully by the involuntary gasp of air she inhales as her body is pulled forcefully from the water._

_"-Piper, what the fuck?! What the Hell do you think you're doing? Piper? Piper! Shit."_

_She faintly hears the sound of Larry dialing an ambulance, which is a little overdramatic, she thinks. She feels fine, after all, perfectly fine, even with the limited amount of air that is being inhaled into her lungs and the thready, slow thump of her heart. _

_"...I had a headache..." she finally manages to mumble in response to Larry's question, but he's not listening. He never listens._

"...And here. You missed one here, Miss Chapman." A finger is pointing to an empty space on the sheet of paper in front of me, and I shake my head as I scrawl my name across the page. The man on the other side of the desk take the pen with a friendly smile, though I find it makes me more uncomfortable than anything.

"Well," he leans back in his seat, one hand playing with the end of his creepy mustache as he stares at me. "On behalf of myself and Dr. Figueroa, I'd like to welcome you to Litchfield, Miss Chapman."

/

"And this is the women's ward," Nurse Reznikov gestures grandly to an empty hallway, with the same white walls and linoleum floors as the rest of the building. "This is where I work and this is where you'll be staying."

After leaving the man named Mr. Caputo, Red had taken me on a short tour through the rest of the building, passing through the offices, where the mysterious Dr. Figueroa worked, and down past the entrance to the men's ward. After climbing two sets of stairs, we had finally reached the women's ward, which was so far empty, though I could faintly hear the sound of a television off in the distance.

"For the first month of your stay, this is where you'll be restricted to, but it won't be long before you're allowed a little more freedom," Red explained as she led me down the hallway, her hands shoved in the pockets of her white nurse uniform. "It's not much, but we have an art room which is open Tuesday through to Friday, a terrace where you can smoke and the television is on at all hours, you know, for the insomniacs."

I nodded absently as we walked down the corridor, looking curiously into the rooms that we pass, though most of the doors were closed. Some of the rooms housed women, who mostly to my eyes looked completely normal; there was even a woman, who despite her crazy hairstyle, was reading from a book with the name Shakespeare written on the cover.

"This here is the main area, where everyone hangs out, the living room if you will," Red gestured to an open area, where several couches and chairs were placed around an outdated television set. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled to the brim with books both new and old, and off to the side was a set of double doors with thick plastic panels, which gave me a view of a small terrace. Women were wandering around freely, while some sat on the couches in front of the television, talking quietly between themselves as they watched Jeopardy. "The nurse's station is over there, and the phones are just around the corner if you need to make any calls. Now, I'll show you to your room so you can get settled in before dinner."

I followed the older woman to an open doorway, feeling numerous pairs of eyes watching me as we stopped outside the entrance, and I was greeted with the sight of a young woman sitting cross legged on a single bed. She had shoulder length, dark brown hair and lips that were painted bright red, which curled up at the corners in an adorable smile and parted to reveal straight white teeth. Her kind brown eyes crinkled in the corners as she looked up from her collage to smile at us and she gave a little wave as Red ushered me into the room.

"Piper, this is your roommate, Lorna Morello," Red introduced us, giving the dark haired girl a warm smile. "You're a lucky one, Chapman; Lorna here is known to be one of the best roommates in Litchfield."

"Aw, shucks, Red," Lorna replied with a thick Brooklyn accent and a bright smile. "And you know it's just Morello around here; Lorna's such an old fashioned name."

"Whatever you say," Red responded with a smirk, though it promptly disappeared as another nurse came to stand in the doorway, gesturing her over as she spoke in a stage whisper.

"Hey, Red, I just got a call from O'Neil downstairs; he said they're bringing in Vause, right now."

"Ah, fuck." The Russian woman cursed softly, running a hand through her short, kind of fierce, red hair before she turned to face me with a forced smile on her thin lips. "I've got something that I need to deal with Piper; get yourself settled in and I'll see you later."

"Sure," I murmured in response, watching as the woman turned sharply on her heel and strode out of the room determinedly. I watched her as she disappeared down a corridor before turning to drop my bag on my bed. I could feel my roommate, Morello, watching me curiously as I began to unpack my bag, which was filled with a variety of clothes and bathroom products from my apartment. Within moments, it was obvious to see that it had actually been Larry that packed my bag, instead of my mother, since all of my favorite clothes were inside and I felt a pang in my chest at the thought of my boyfriend as I rubbed my fingers over the soft fabric of my favorite hoody.

"Here." The soft voice of my roommate pulled me from my thoughts and I turned my head to find the dark haired woman offering me a small box of tissues, and it was only then that I realized I had started to cry. "The first night is always the hardest."

"Thanks," I managed a small grateful smile as I took the box, but Morello's attention had already been diverted by some scene playing outside of the window. I took a tissue from the box and wiped my watering eyes with it, before following the dark haired woman to the window and staring out at the hospital's parking lot.

I was more than a little surprised to find a police car parked outside, and I watched as two men in uniform stepped out to speak to nurse Reznikov, who was standing close by. One of the men turned away from the Russian woman to open the door to the back seat, and then proceeded to pull out a dark haired woman with her hands cuffed uncomfortably behind her back. The moment the cuffs were removed, the woman snatched her arm out of the officers hold while turning her head to glare darkly at the man from behind thick black rimmed glasses. Her expression immediately softened into a smirk when her arm was taken by Red, who started dragging the woman to the hospital doors, despite the fact the dark haired woman towered over her by almost a foot.

_What the fuck? _I thought to myself as they scene played out, turning my head to gaze at Morello who was staring down at the police car with a mixture of worry and something else I couldn't define. "Who the fuck was that?"

"That's Alex," Morello sighed is response as she turned around to walk back to her bed, refocusing her attention on a magazine full of wedding dresses. "She escaped a couple of weeks ago but it looks like they brought her back again."

I raised my eyebrow at the dark haired woman, but when no further explanation was forthcoming; I turned back to my bed and began to place my clothes in my small set of drawers. My attention was soon diverted again by a shout of surprise, mixed with delight from the living area, and I walked towards the entrance of my room to see a small woman with ridiculously messy hair jumping over the back of the couch.

"Vause!" The woman shouted, a delighted grin threatening to split her face in half as she threw her arms up in welcome. "You're back!"

"You know me, Nichols; I can't stay away from this place for too long." And there she was, the owner of that deliciously low and husky voice, being led into the living area by Red's tight grip on her arm. The woman from outside, _Alex, _was easily five foot ten, towering over most of the women in the living area, with skin tight black jeans and black doc martins encasing her long legs. She wore a white tank top and I watched with wide, curious eyes as she shrugged off her leather jacket and placed it into Red's waiting arms, revealing a colorful rose tattoo and a small pin up girl inked into her milky white skin. "Did you miss me, Nicky?"

"You bet," the crazy haired woman responded with a grin as she crossed her arms over her chest. "You were gone for two weeks this time, Vause; shit was getting boring around here."

"Good to know I lighten up someone's day," the taller woman ran her fingers through her long black hair, tipped with electric blue streaks as her green eyes glanced around the room. Her ruby red lips were stretched in an amused smirk as her eyes roved over the women in the living area, before coming to a dead stop on me. I felt a shiver race down my spine as I was captured in her intense gaze, unable to look away as those green eyes seemed to stare straight into my soul. "Hey, what's up with Laura Ingalls Wilder? And what is she doing in Morello's room?"

I hadn't realized that I'd been holding my breath, but I exhaled heavily when those eyes finally turned away from me, to glance between the women in the suddenly deathly silent room. Green eyes narrowed dangerously behind black rimmed glasses as the raven haired woman turned to face Red. "Where the fuck is she?"

Nurse Reznikov didn't respond, her thin lips turning down in a frown, and suddenly, the woman named Alex was striding angrily across the room, directly towards me. I stumbled backwards in shock and fear as she entered my room, turning sharply to slam the door closed and jamming a chair beneath the handle to keep it locked. Cold green eyes focused on me once more as the woman advanced on me, and I felt my back hit the wall with a shock as my heart pounded wildly in my chest.

"Who the fuck are you?" Alex questioned me angrily, her hands landing heavily on the wall on either side of my head. "Where the fuck is Sylvie? Where the fuck is she?!"

I resisted the urge to cover my ears with my hands as the woman screamed in my face, the sound mixing with the relentless pounding on the door. I felt a surge of anger mix in with my fear at the noise, and the memory of my fists beating a relentless rhythm on the face of the preacher flashed behind my eyes as the dark haired woman continued to yell at me.

"Where is she?! Where the fuck is Sylvie? Tell me!"

"Alex!" The door finally burst open with a crashing bang to reveal a distressed looking Red, causing Alex to slowly turn her gaze away from me. "Get away from her! You've been gone for two weeks; a lot of shit has gone down."

The hands that rested on either side of my head slowly fell away, as Alex turned to face the angry Russian nurse with a cold expression. "How did she do it, Red? How did she do it?"

"Let's go to your room," Red spoke softly, her voice laced with sympathy as she gestured for the dark haired woman to leave. "We can talk there."

For a moment, it looked as if Alex was going to argue, but I watched with wide eyes as she clenched her jaw and stalked from the room, with Red following shortly behind her. I let myself collapse against the wall as my legs finally gave out, feeling myself slide down until my ass hit the floor and I buried my face in my hands as I was overwhelmed with a feeling of mind numbing relief.

_What the fuck just happened?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Girl, Interrupted**

_"I just- I don't understand, Piper," Larry sighed as he ran his fingers through his short, curly hair. "What the fuck is going on with you?"_

_She wants to explain, she does, but how can she explain something she doesn't understand? It's not as if there's a book on this or an information brochure that she can pick up in the entrance at the nearest hospital. This is just who she is and this is how she feels, she can't explain why she is what she is or why she feels these emotions that tear her up inside. Maybe she was just born this way, with a crack in her mind and in her heart, or maybe it developed over the years, she doesn't know. So, what can she possibly say to make Larry understand?_

_"I'm sorry," is the option she goes for, since there's no way she can make Larry understand, and they both know it. They are fundamentally different, their minds are built on different foundations; Larry's mind is completely stable, while the ground cracks beneath her thoughts. _

_"I know," Larry sighs again, without frustration this time, because he does understand that she doesn't mean for any of this, even if he's not entirely sure what _this_ is. He sits heavily on the chair beside her hospital bed, where she has been recovering for the past two days and takes her cold hand in his warm one. "I know you are, Pipes."_

"Hey, Blondie." Fingers snap in front of my face, pulling me from my grim memories and I look up to find the crazy haired woman that I'd seen earlier, staring at me with wide brown eyes. "What are you, like, deaf or something? Or did Vause just blow your ear drums before?"

"She can hear just fine, Nichols, stop being such an ass," my roommate, Morello, speaks up in my defense from the seat beside me, shaking her fork at the other woman. "It's her first night; you should be nicer to her."

"Yeah, whatever," Nicky dismisses the dark haired girl with a wave of her hand before turning her gaze back to me. There's something in her brown eyes, a certain lack of focus, and yet I feel as if she can read my thoughts by the intense scrutiny she's giving me. It's unnerving and I feel the hairs on my arms raise in response. "Anyway, as I was saying, what's your name, College?"

"Piper, Piper Chapman," I respond as I push around the food on my plate, since while I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast, the food here isn't exactly appealing. I tried to force some of the dry chicken something they've given us down my throat, but I gave up after a fierce coughing fit when it got stuck half way.

"So, Piper, Piper Chapman, what are you in for?" The woman called Nicky asks me, with that almost uncomfortable gaze still locked on me. "Oh no, wait, let me guess. Let's see, how about... psychopath? No? Okay, how about Pseudologia fantastica, like our girl Morello here, the pathological liar? No? Well, you're pretty fucking thin, how about an anorexic?"

I shake my head, causing the other woman to sigh in defeat, and turn her question around on her. "How about you, why are you here?"

When Nicky merely raises a mysterious eyebrow, Morello huffs from her seat beside me and points her fork at the crazy haired woman. "She's a paranoid schizophrenic, she hears voices and shit."

"Well," I murmured in the almost deafening silence that followed. "That sounds just... delightful."

"You don't know the half of it, Blondie."

Our conversation is interrupted by an ear piercing yell of rage, followed by the sound of something crashing against a wall. We all turn towards the open doorway of the dining room, which gives us a good view of the living area and within moments of the yell, Alex is storming into our line of vision. The raven haired woman looks _angry _and more than a little bit crazy as she throws furniture out of her way as if it weights nothing, a show of unexpected strength which is honestly fucking terrifying.

"No!" Alex yells again, her voice full of fury as Red and several other nurses follow hurriedly behind her, dodging furniture and whatever else the crazed woman manages to get her hands on. "This is your fucking fault! Fuck! You did this!"

"Alex, calm down!" Red commands from where she stands, a few feet away from the raven haired tornado, her hands held up in a sign for peace. "You're going to make me do something that I don't want to do!"'

"Fuck _you_!" Alex growls in response, her green eyes flashing behind her glasses. "Fuck all of you! You're all fucking _sick, _you _weak _fucking people! This place is fucking _poison_ and you act like you're all fucking gods when you're even more fucked up than we are! Fuck you!"

I watch with wide eyes as Alex punctuates her words by throwing a thick book towards the group of women, narrowly missing the side of Red's head. In the midst her anger filled speech, she doesn't notice the guard that comes up behind her and is therefore too slow to react when Red gives a decisive nod to the man, who instantly grabs Alex's arms to restrain her.

"No!" Alex instantly begins to fight, using her strength and the weight of her body to try and throw the guard off, but within moments, Red has her surrounded by nurses that are grasping the raven haired woman's limbs to hold her still. "No! Fuck you! Ah!"

"Get her legs and hold her tight, Bennett." Red orders as she pulls a syringe from the pocket of her uniform and instantly, Alex's anger turns to complete and utter fear. The dark haired woman's eyes are wide as they stare at the red headed woman with a mixture of panic and horror and her movements become more desperate as she tries to escape from the many hands holding her still.

"Oh God, no, Red, please! Please, please, _please, _don't." The woman uncharacteristically begs as Red walks slowly towards her, with determination in her narrowed blue eyes. "Don't. No, no, please, don't. Fuck, Red, please! No! _No!_"

Despite her intense struggling, Red manages to insert the needle into the raven haired woman's arm and Alex's cry of pain and terror sends a shiver down my spine. The whole scene is truly horrifying to watch and it only gets worse when Alex's body goes slack and she begins to whisper soft pleas as the guard and nurses carry her away. I find myself still staring at the spot where she had stood for minutes after she is gone, too shocked to process the horror that I'd just witnessed.

"And that there is our resident sociopath," Nicky's voice breaks the silence, laced with a strange mix of sarcasm and sympathy. "Poor kid, she'll be in solitary for a few days, at least."

"What's wrong with her?" I turn to face my table mates with a frown. "I mean, besides from the sociopath thing."

"You know that girl she was talking about earlier? Sylvie?" Morello asks me, her voice soft and full of sorrow. "Well, she was Alex's girlfriend and she used to be my roommate, but a few days after Alex escaped, she stole a bunch of razors from the nurse's station and then she swallowed them all."

/

Ring. Ring. Ring.

_"Hey, you've reached Larry's voice mail, sorry I can't make it to the phone right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

I hung the phone up on the receiver and pressed my forehead against the cold wall, fighting tears and a wave of loneliness. I didn't want to be here anymore, in this fucked up place with these fucked up people, sleeping on a dead woman's bed while her girlfriend was probably drugged and locked up in a padded room somewhere. Everything and everyone in this place was so fucking crazy and I didn't belong here; sure, I had my fucking problems, but I didn't hear voices or stave myself half to death. I wasn't fucking crazy.

I am not fucking crazy.

I turned around to lean back against the wall, in a dim corridor just around the corner from the living area, but hidden from any prying eyes. There was nothing down here except for the phones and a large door with a small seeing window placed at eye level. Wiping away my tears before they could leak from my eyes, I crossed the floor and peered curiously into the small window and was shocked at what I saw.

It wasn't much different from the white padded rooms that you see in the movies, with no furniture except for a small cot on the floor. Everything was white, from the bed linen to the walls and the soft carpeted floor; everything except for the dark woman that sat in the far corner, Alex. Her black hair covered her face like a curtain, hiding her expression as she sat curled up against the wall. She wasn't wearing a straight jacket or anything ridiculous, not like she needed one, since it didn't look like she could move even if she wanted to. I watched her silently, barely even breathing as she slowly rolled her head to the side, giving me a bare glimpse of her pale face, and what I saw there stopped my heart in my chest.

There was nothing, abso-fucking-lutely nothing.

Those green eyes that I had only known for one day, which had previously been full of so much fire, were now completely empty. Her pale, attractive face was slack and lifeless and it honestly looked like she was nothing more than a corpse. There was no light in her eyes, no sign that a human being inhabited the shell of her body and it made me want to fucking cry and scream in outrage. It was so wrong to treat someone like this, no matter what shit went on inside of their head, no matter what they did to deserve it. No one with as much life as this woman seemed to have should ever have to be reduced to this, this lifeless thing without a single fucking coherent thought. I almost wanted to throw up at the horror of it all, but instead I just turned my eyes away and began walking back to my room.

And still, hours later, when I should have been in bed, terrified by my first night sleeping in a mental institution, all I could think about was the hollow look in those beautiful green eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Girl, Interrupted**

**Chapter Four**

"Checks."

My eyes flutter open at the sound of the strange voice and I roll over in my bed to see a nurse standing at the door, her eyes glancing between myself and Morello, who was sitting up on her bunk, reading a magazine. The nurse gives me a small smile before pulling her head out of the door way and I roll back over onto my side as I listen to her footsteps echo down the hallway. I close my tired eyes, feeling sleep pull at me insistently as I faintly hear another voice resonate throughout the hospital, shouting a line I know well from my memories.

"A glooming peace this morning with it brings; the sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; some shall be pardoned, and some punished: For never was a story of more woe..."

_"-Than this of Juliet and her Romeo."_

_The crowd bursts into applause, a standing ovation for the actors on stage, while she continues to sit in her seat with her arms crossed over her chest. She stares at the people that surround her disdainfully, scowling at a woman that is wiping furiously at the tears on her cheeks across the aisle. Even Larry is standing from his seat, clapping and whooping like an idiot, as if the ending to the play deserved such an enthusiastic response, when it surely doesn't._

_Fuck, she hates Shakespeare and all his sappy, star crossed lovers' bullshit. _

_She wonders if the people understand the true horror of this play and it's fucked up ending, where two young kids kill themselves for no good reason other than the fact they think they can't live without each other. It disgusts her to be honest, the joy that people get from this tale, that makes this kind of fucked up love seem normal, as if a young girl or boy should kill themselves just because they lose their loved one. _

_And suddenly, these thoughts make her think of her own relationship, of Larry, who is still hollering his approval for the play. She knows that if she were to die, drink a vial of the most potent poison and end her own suffering, he would not kiss her lips one last time; he would not follow her. He wouldn't ever even consider it, which was a good thing, she knew, but it made her sad too, that their love wasn't as strong, as potent as two children's in a play. She would never know that kind of love and it hurts, but she does love Larry and she knows he loves her, so why doesn't it ever feel like it's enough?_

_And suddenly, she's crying along with the rest of the crowd and Larry looks down and gives her a sympathetic smile as he pats her shoulder and it makes her cry harder. _

_Fuck, she hates Shakespeare. _

"Checks!"

The voice once again snaps me from my drowsy state and I turn around to find the nurse back in the doorway, though Morello had disappeared from the room.

"Piper, you have your session with Healy in an hour."

I sigh as I push myself up onto my elbow, rubbing one of my eyes as the nurse looks at me expectantly. "Is there somewhere where I can wash?"

"Sure," the nurse gives me a friendly smile and gestures to my toiletries which rest on my bedside table, next to the diary that Larry had thoughtfully packed for me. "Grab your things and I'll take you there."

I nod my head and still in my pyjamas, I grab a spare change of clothes and my towel and follow the nurse out of my room. I hear a wolf whistle as I pass the living area and turn my head to find Nicky, the crazy haired woman, staring back at me with a smirk. "Nice get up, Blondie."

I curtsy as I walk, earning a low chuckle that doesn't come from Nicky and I snap my head to the side to find Alex, leaning in the doorway of one of the rooms, her green eyes fixed on me as I pass. I quickly avoid her gaze, not out of embarrassment, but more so from the fact that I can barely stand to look at her after what I had witnessed yesterday. It had taken me hours to fall asleep last night, unable to get the image of those hollow green eyes out of my head and I didn't want to look into her eyes now, just in case that hollow look was staring back at me.

But I can't help one last look over my shoulder, to see Alex still watching me as I walk down the corridor and I can't help the small smile that tips my lips.

Because fuck, her eyes were positively alive.

/

"Here you go."

I look up from the semi cool water that I'm lying in to find Red standing above me, holding out a razor. I reach up to take it from her hands, watching out of the corner of my eye as the nurse takes a seat beside the bath and watches as I lather up my leg. It's a uncomfortable feeling, having her watching me as I shave my legs, and while I've never been one for modesty, I can't help but feel awkward as I drag the razor along my leg.

"Thanks," I murmur when I'm finally done, flashing the older woman a small but grateful smile, since I do understand their worries upon giving the women here razor blades after what happened with Alex's girlfriend.

"No problem," Red replies as she takes the blade and slips it into her pocket, leaning back in her seat as she watches me wash my arms. "How was your first day, Chapman?"

I turn my head to give her a dull stare and she chuckles in response. "Seriously?"

"Yesterday wasn't one of our better days, I must admit," Red agrees with a small sigh. "It's not usually like that, I swear."

"Mm," I wash the soap from my arms before turning to look at the Russian woman. "Honestly? It was fucking horrible, but it could be worse; I could be in prison."

"That is true," Red chuckles again.

"At least I don't have to worry about getting shanked here, right?" I smile tremulously, though it quickly fades. "Though, yesterday..."

Red sighs softly at my unfinished sentence, giving a gentle shake of her head. "I'm sorry about that, Piper. Alex... is one of our more difficult patients, to put it lightly, but you don't have to worry about her anymore. She is not usually so violent, more likely to use her words than her fists."

"I was surprised to see her out of isolation so soon," I reply softly, looking up at the red haired woman, whose brow was furrowed. It was true, while I didn't agree to the inhumane punishment; it had been a shock to see Alex out in the living area, as if yesterday had never happened.

"The drug I gave her is strong, but it doesn't last for long," Red responds with a small shrug. "I spoke with her this morning and she was much better, plus, I do not like to put girls in the box. Yesterday was just... extreme circumstances, you understand?" A sigh from the Russian woman as she glances at the watch on her wrist before looking up at me with her piercing blue eyes. "It's time to go, Chapman; you have your meeting with Healy in five."

/

"So, you took a bottle of aspirin, half a bottle of valium and washed it all down with a bottle of vodka and you weren't trying to kill yourself?"

I glare at Dr Healy, hating the skeptical look on his stupid, pudgy face. This session had been going for a long forty minutes and I already knew that the last twenty were going to drag. "I told you, I had a headache."

Healy raises his eyebrow, peering at me from over the top of his glasses in disbelief and I grit my teeth in response. "Piper, I find that hard to believe."

"Well, it doesn't fucking matter what you believe, does it?" I hiss, feeling my temper steadily rising; what was it with these therapists that made me so angry?

"It does matter, Piper, since if you want to get out of here, you're going to have to start talking to me," Healy sighs, setting my file down on the desk as he leans back in his seat to continue studying me with his dull blue eyes. "I want to help you, but you need to let me try."

"So, what? I just confess all my secrets to you? Confess my sins and I'm fucking saved, is that it?" I ask sarcastically, raising my eyebrows as I stare back at my therapist, who pushes his glasses on top of his head and sighs again.

"No, but talking to me about your problems would be a good start. Telling me how you feel would help too and it might make you feel better." He picks up my file from the desk and waves it around slightly. "There's only so much in here that I can go from, Piper, and it's all just about the things you've done, not about who you are or what you feel inside for you to do these things. Your attempt at suicide-"

"I didn't try to kill myself!" I slam my hands down on the arms of my chair, my eyes blazing with anger as Healy holds up his hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Okay, okay," he clears his throat. "What I'm trying to get at is that I need to know the reasons behind these things, I need to know how you feel so that I can help you with these problems and you can go back home. That's what you want, right? To go back home to your family and your boyfriend, Larry?"

I take a few deep, calming breaths before I slowly nod my head, because yes, fuck yes, I want to go home more than anything. I feel myself slowly calm down as I relax back into my seat, trying to ignore the wary look in Healy's eyes as he watches me carefully. "I don't know what to tell you," I finally say, my voice weary.

"Just tell me how you feel."

"Well, that's the problem, isn't it?" I sigh, looking up into his eyes. "I don't know how I feel."

Instead of sighing again or shaking his head, Healy finally nods, seeming to understand or expect my response. He takes a moment to write some notes on a piece of paper, before looking up at me and asking me a question that I've already been asked once today. "How was your first day in Litchfield, Piper?"

"Fucking fantastic," I deadpan, finally earning a smile from the older man.

"It'll get better, especially once you start to feel better," he says as he once again leans back in his seat, crossing his thick arms over his chest. "The women here... well, let's just say that they're not all like you. They're not horrible people, mostly just misguided, but some of them..." He pauses for a moment, his expression suddenly becoming serious as stares at me intensely. "Just, look out for yourself, Piper; we have some women here that _are _dangerous. Nicky Nichols for one example is not a woman you want to be troubling yourself further with, she's a paranoid schizophrenic who rarely takes her medication _and _she's a lesbian. She seems like an amusing woman, but let me tell you, she is not a friend that you want to make in this place and don't even get me started on Alex Vause."

My eyebrows had risen further and further up my brow during Healy's speech, until I was scared they were going to disappear into my hair. "What's wrong with Alex Vause?" I decided to act as if I hadn't already met the woman, who Nicky had already told me was a sociopath, interested to hear Healy's description of her.

"Alex Vause is not a nice woman." Healy said seriously, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk as he stared into my eyes. "She can be extremely charming and she can act like your best friend, but do not trust a word that comes out of her mouth. She is a liar, she will tell you anything that you want to hear to get you to do what she wants, but she'll turn around and bite you when you refuse her. She's a manipulator, Piper; do not get caught in her web like so many women before you have. I have seen so many young girls fall for her _charms,_" he spits the word out like a curse before continuing. "And she's turned on every single one of them when it's suited her purpose. I would hate to see that happen to you."

I was unsure of what to think about Healy's warning but I nodded my head in assent, since I didn't plan to be striking up any friendships during my hopefully very short stay anyway. I watched as the older man breathed a sigh of relief before glancing at the clock and nodding his head.

"Okay, this was a good session. It's Friday, so I won't see you again until next week, but I was thinking about bringing your parents in for a meeting. What would you prefer, Wednesday or Friday?"

_Fuck. _


	5. Chapter 5

**Girl, Interrupted**

**Chapter Five**

_I don't know how I feel._

I scratch the words into the first page of my diary, in big, bold letters that take up half of the page as I absently listen to the music from Morello's radio. My light is briefly blocked by a shadow and I look up to find a tall form towering over me, bright green eyes twinkling behind black rimmed glasses. It's Alex, and although she seems much calmer today, I can't help but feel a slight shiver of fear run down my spine at her presence in my room.

"Scribble, scribble, scribble," the dark haired woman says as she glances between my eyes and the diary in my lap. "Written anything about me yet?"

I merely raise an eyebrow, watching with surprise as she lays down on the end of my bed, stretching her lithe body before propping herself up on an elbow, as if we're friends, as if this is the most normal thing in the world. "Not yet, but there's still time."

Her husky chuckle fills the room, smooth and sexy, exactly how I remembered it from my brief encounter with her this morning. Her green eyes are twinkling madly behind her glasses, a sign of amusement or a sign of insanity, I'm not entirely sure but it's much better than the empty stare I had witnessed last night. I suddenly remember Healy's warning about this woman, who is studying me from the end of my bed, but I find it hard to care as her eyes rake hotly over my body, raising an involuntary flush to my cheeks.

"So, Peter Piper, do you smoke?" Alex asks as she pulls a pack of cigarettes from the back pocket of her jeans, waving it around enticingly.

"I quit," I reply as my blue eyes follow the packet with longing. It had been three months since my last cigarette, when Larry finally put his foot down and demanded that I break the habit.

"New Year's Resolutions don't count in here," Alex smirks as she stretches her arm out, holding the packet barely an inch away from my nose. "Nicky and I were just about to go out for one, wanna join us?"

_What Larry doesn't know won't hurt him, right? _I think as I gaze at the packet of cigarettes wistfully before finally closing my diary and receiving an excited whoop from Alex as I slip off the edge of my bed. It is extreme circumstances after all, since I'm currently in a mental institution, what's one fucking cigarette?

"That's the spirit!" Alex laughs as she follows me to her feet, leading the way out of the room and heading towards the double doors that lead out into the terrace. She holds the door open for me, giving me a sly smile as she inclines her head. "After you, my lady."

"Why, thank you, kind sir," I curtsy in response before slipping past her and out the door, taking in the view of the terrace. It's a surprisingly beautiful area, with plants scattered around the terrace and vines covering the walls. There is no ceiling, just the late afternoon sky and the entire area is flooded with light from the winter sun, bouncing off the metal tables and chairs that are scattered around the place. All but one of the tables are empty and I watch as Alex glides past me to sit at the table where a few women are already waiting.

Nicky is there, as Alex said she would be, a cigarette in one hand while her other arm is slung over the back of Morello's chair, who is staring down at the cards she holds in her hands. Two other girls I hadn't met yet are there too, one, a small, impossibly thin girl with blonde cornrows and a neck tattoo and a bigger woman with tattoos on her arms and short, black hair. I move hesitantly towards the table and sit in the only empty chair left, between Alex and Morello and smile gratefully when Alex places a cigarette between my lips and then lights it.

I inhale the smoke and almost melt into my chair at the feeling of it filling my lungs, causing my tense muscles to relax and my eyes to close in bliss. Alex's husky chuckle is mixed with others from the girl's around the table and I open my eyes with a smile as I slowly exhale the smoke from between my lips. "Fuck, that's good."

"Jesus Christ, Blondie," Nicky smirks from across the table. "Did you just take a drag or have a fuckin' orgasm?"

"A bit of both, I think," I murmur as I take another drag from the cigarette. "What are you guys playing?"

"Poker," Alex supplies, taking the cards from everyone's hands and shuffling them, with a cigarette hanging from between her ruby red lips. "We're playing for smokes; you wanna be dealt in, P? I'll loan you a few and if you win, we can split the winnings."

"Sure," I smile, watching briefly as Alex passed out the cards before looking up at the other women at the table. "I'm Piper, by the way."

"Tricia," the young blonde speaks up in response before pointing her thumb at the hefty woman beside her. "And this is Big Boo."

I simply nod as I take a glance at the cards Alex laid before me, picking up the edges and keeping my face completely neutral at the hand I'd been dealt. I looked up to find Alex watching me, her eyes intent and searching as they studied my face and I merely raised an eyebrow in return. A small smirk pulled at the corner of her lips, which promptly disappeared as she grimaced, pulling away the cards that she'd been holding in front of her face.

"Fuck, is it just me or do these cards smell like piss?"

/

"Jesus fuck, Chapman!" Nicky groans as she sits back in her seat, running her fingers through her thick mane of hair. "So much for only having played once or twice!"

"Oh, did I say that?" I ask innocently as I count the pile of cigarettes that were sitting on the table in front of me, with one hanging from in between my lips. "Beginners luck, maybe?"

"Fuck you, beginners luck," Alex chuckles with amusement as she throws her cards into the middle of the table. "I've played poker with the best of 'em and never had my ass kicked like that."

"Well," I murmur slyly, looking up into Alex's green eyes as I pushed half of my pile over to her. "Lucky we were on the same team then, huh?"

Before Alex could reply, Big Boo spoke up from the other side of the table, with her arms from over her chest and a thoughtful frown on her face. "Hey Alex, is it true that Crazy Eyes is getting out?"

"Mhm," Alex hums in agreement, her eyes going dark as she packs up the cards into their box. "Looks like it. Either that bitch coughed up a big one or her parents finally decided to pull her out again for some reason, I don't know the details."

"But she's crazy," Tricia said angrily. "That fucking bitch walks the halls screaming Shakespeare and shit and talks to the fucking furniture."

"Her parents have a deal with the head of this place," Nicky supplies, running her fingers through Morello's dark hair. "If she shows enough progress, they pull her out and let her stay in a baby proof apartment just around the corner from where they live and if she's has another episode, they throw her right back in. It's fuckin' stupid, is what it is, a vicious fuckin' cycle."

"I think I heard her quoting Shakespeare this morning," I add quietly, earning a snort of laughter from Alex.

"I didn't take you for a sappy romance type, Pipes."

"I'm not," I respond easily, with a shrug. "But I did study Theatre and English Literature in college."

"Oooh!" Tricia cackles, with a slightly sarcastic edge to her tone. "We've got a fancy pants College graduate in our midst."

Before I can object or defend myself, Alex is already glaring venomously at the young blonde, her green eyes narrowed and darkened with anger. It shocks me how instantly her mood can switch, from amusement to pure rage in a matter of seconds. "Shut the fuck up, Tricia."

Tricia immediately shrinks back into her seat, with a grumpy expression on her face. "Asshole."

"Fatso," Alex spits back immediately. "Plus, Nicky went to college and I don't see you giving her any shit."

"To be fair, I didn't go to any of my classes, I just got high and partied," Nicky adds with a chuckle, giving me a sly wink. I smiled back and then turned my head when the door to the terrace opened and Red stuck her head out, her blue eyes landing on us immediately. Her eyes linger on me for a moment and a strange expression crosses her face before it returns to its normal stoicism and she turns her attention to Alex.

"Alex, we've been waiting for you in your room for half an hour, what the hell are you doing?"

"Ah, shit, I forgot it was our sexy time, Red," Alex chuckles as she stands up from the table, stretching her body in such a delicious way that I can't help but stare. The edge of her t-shirt lifts slightly, displaying the smooth, creamy white skin of her stomach before her arms drop back to her sides and she's once again covered. "You just can't keep your hands off me, can ya?"

_Can you blame her? _The thought entered my mind briefly as I watched Alex walk back into the building, her hips swaying with every step.

/

Ring. Ring. Ring.

_"Hey, you've reached Larry's voice mail, sorry I can't make it to the phone right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you."_

I sigh as I hang the phone up, feeling dejected at the fact my boyfriend wasn't answering my calls. I had tried to call him half a dozen times in the past two days and had received no response and I couldn't help but wonder if Larry was finally done with me. Our relationship had been strained ever since the incident outside the church, where he had literally dragged me off another woman's broken and beaten body. I still remember the horrified look in his eyes, the complete disgust and shock; he had looked at me as if I was a stranger, a woman that he no longer recognized.

And honestly, I couldn't blame him since I barely recognized myself anymore.

My hand hovers over the phone as I debate whether or not to try again, wanting desperately to hear his warm, comforting voice and escape from my shit situation if only for a few minutes. Our relationship wasn't perfect, but I loved Larry and I didn't want to lose the one person that gave a fuck about me anymore.

"Hey, P," a voice distracted me, just as I was about to pick up the phone and dial Larry's number. I turned my head to face Alex, who stood a few feet away with a crooked smile on her face. "It's movie night tonight and we're watching Finding Nemo, you coming? I got snacks."

I look at the bundle of chips and candy in her hands, which she held up from my observation and spared one last glance at the phone before following the dark haired woman to the living area.


End file.
